Runaway Duology Part 1: Runaway
by Jade-Max
Summary: A certain Young Jedi's past is isn't everything they've said it was...
1. Chapter 1

May 2006

Disclaimer: Star Wars is property of George Lucas.

Disclaimer 2: Runaway is sung by Pink, it belongs to her. Boy, in the second stanza, is supposed to be girl, but I changed it to make it fit.

Title: Runaway

Author: JadeMax

Timeframe: Post Thrawn Trilogy, Pre YJK AU

Character: My usual fare – with a twist ;)

Keywords: Angst, new beginnings.

Summary: Some people will go to extraordinary lengths to hide their past.

Notes: Spur of the moment song fic. The best kind. Song words in italics.

**Runaway**

_Chapter 1_

_I've got my things packed_

_My favorite pillow_

_Got my sleeping bag_

_Climb out the window_

He checked his bag for the last time, mentally cataloguing his belongings. His pillow. His sleeping bag. A bag of cookies, a water bottle, a blanket, a change of clothing and his small blaster. He zipped his bag shut carefully, his ears straining to hear the telltale noise of his father's drunken rages.

Nothing. The house was quiet. He took a deep breath, turning to take one last look at his room. His bed was made, his toys carefully put away, nothing littering the tiny room. He turned to the window and carefully lifted the sash, the cool night air wafting in.

He pushed his toy trunk to just below the window and climbed on top, pausing to look back only once to make sure he'd left no sign of his intent before dropping his bag out the window and following it.

He even paused to close it behind him.

_All the pictures and pain_

_I left behind_

_All the freedom and fame_

_I've gotta find_

He hit the ground and rolled, feeling rocks bite into his legs and suppressed the urge to cry as tears stung his eyes. He was out, he was free.

He rubbed one small, grubby hand against his eyes and pushed away the tears. His father hit him harder and on a regular basis. A little scrape or bruise was nothing.

He collected his bag, checking to make sure his boots were tied, before running off into the night towards the space port. He had to escape, not only the house, but the planet. If his father found him, there's be hell to pay.

The first two nights he was on his own. He ran from his house, the only home he'd known in seven years. He ran from the father that beat him for not doing, not saying whatever _he_ wanted to hear. He ran from the abuse, the pain, the sorrow of seeing his mother step in to take beatings meant for him.

He ran because of fear.

He stayed in the shadows, surviving on his cookies and water for the first few days. He avoided the people and places he'd once frequented. The school yard, his best friend's house and the café that was the one concession his father allowed them.

_And I wonder_

_How long it'll take them to notice that I'm gone_

_And I wonder_

_How far it'll take me_

He arrived at the spaceport in the early hours of the morning and found a freighter, stowing away in the cargo hold before anyone was around, luckily avoiding detection.

He found several crates in the cargo hold, peering into them curiously with the held of a nearby glow rod. He found several filled with ration bars, of which he took several off the top and stuff them into his bag before stuffing his face. The hold also had a cistern filled with cool water. He drank his fill before refilling his bottle.

Then, after he was full, his face and hands washed, he found a dark corner with some broken down crates and made himself comfortable, curling up under his blanket and putting his head down on his pillow.

As he stared at the darkness wondering if his mother missed him. Did she even notice that he was gone? Had they even noticed he hadn't come down for breakfast the next morning or had they simply assumed he was at Nikolin's house?

He closed his eyes, thankful he wouldn't be waking to the hard fist of his father.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

He woke to the feeling of weightlessness, of a pressure on his chest. He gasped and found little air to replace that which he'd expended.

Frantically, he clawed out of his little space, and found a nearby hatchway marked something "crew" something. That was good enough. With strength born of desperation he cranked the handle and the sound of air leaking into the hold was welcome.

He put his face by the cracked seal and inhaled deeply, feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.

He closed his eyes, a part of him wishing this course of action hadn't been necessary.

_I was just trying to be myself_

_Have it your way I'll meet you in hell_

_It's all these secrets that I shouldn't tell _

_I've got to run away_

His father was the ideal citizen. Witty, charming, polite and respectful. In public. Once behind the closed doors of his home, he'd turned into a tyrannical monster.

Nothing was good enough. Wanting to learn languages hadn't been good enough. Wanting to learn an instrument had made him, the seven year old son, queer. Whatever that meant. It almost meant it was unforgivable.

His father ruled with a strap and a hand and fist of iron. The still healing welts on his back told of the sad state in which he'd found himself for trying to talk to his friend about what his father did.

Was it such a crime to want to be oneself?

_It's hypocritical of you_

_Do as you say not as you do_

_I'll never be your perfect boy_

_I've got to run away_

To make maters worse, his father had publicly humiliated him by shaming. His father hadn't approved of the method in which he'd gotten into a fight at school. A fight with an older boy who liked to pull his hair.

Hair that his father had cut off that same afternoon with a vibro knife in an unkind manner.

He couldn't understand why it was alright for his father to do something while he couldn't. Why the rules were different for his parent.

It had caused spite and ire to fester, driving him to the brink and finally, after one evening where his mother had been the target of the abuse, he slipped away.

And so he ran. He ran from the rules and regulations, he ran from the tyranny. He ran from the suppression and the lies. He ran from the fear. He ran because he wanted the freedom to express himself.

_I'm too young to be_

_Taken seriously_

_But I'm too old to believe_

_All this hypocrisy_

The freighter landed on another planet, a planet of which he didn't know the name, and he collected his gear, sneaking away when he heard the freighter's pilots talking about locating the air leak in the hold that was draining their resources.

He snuck into the new spaceport, shivering in the brisk wind that bit into the thin material of his coat.

He gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering.

He might only be seven, but he didn't believe that adults should be governed by a different code of conduct than children. He didn't believe his father had the right to hit him, and he wasn't allowed to fight back.

But no one took a seven year old seriously.

His only option had been to run. Run from the unfair treatment, to run from the nightmare that was his life. To run from the parent who suppressed all of his natural instincts with the intention of molding him into something he wasn't.

He ran because he had no choice.

_And I wonder_

_How long it'll take them to see my bed is made_

_And I wonder_

_If I was a mistake_

Now, alone on the new planet, the little boy seemed to suddenly comprehend what drastic step he'd taken. His mother was lightyears away with his father. Every person he'd ever known had been left behind when he'd boarded that freighter.

He huddled himself into a corner, pulling out the blanket and wrapping himself in it as he looked up into the starlit sky. He dreamed of being home, tucked in tightly into his bed, shabby though it was. He dreamed of a hot cup of milk, something to warm him as his teeth began to chatter.

He wondered as he sat huddling in the corner, trying to keep in his body heat, if they had yet noticed he was gone. Or if they had noticed, if his room had been clean enough to forgive the transgression.

Tears clouded his eyes and his head sank down. He blew into his hands, trying to keep them warm.

Did his parents even care that he was gone or were they finally happy to be rid of the burden that he was? If that was what they thought him to be. Had he been nothing more than a mistake?


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

He crawled into a small basement of a house near the space port, curling close to the thermal heater that took up one corner and squishing himself as close to it as he could.

He was so cold and he had nowhere to go.

His head dropped as he sat beside the soothing warmth, melting the icicles in his veins and thawing toes that were almost numb. Somewhere between the thankfulness of the partially open window that didn't shut properly, and his miserable thoughts he fell asleep.

_I might have nowhere left to go_

_But I know that I cannot go home_

_These voices trapped inside my head_

_Tell me to run before I'm dead_

Nightmares haunted him.

Voices yelled at him, repeating the often heard threats that had clouded his young life. Voices that threatened his life, his health and his physical well being. Voices that were always angry, never pleased.

And a smaller, softer, but no less insistent voice that begged him to do nothing to aggravate the first voice. That same voice, smaller, yet just as insistent, urging him to run. Knowing, even as he did, that his chances for survival were better off without the pain and the pressure.

The chances were better because someday that large, angry voice would beat him to death.

He woke, barely cutting off the scream that followed the nightmare, tears streaming down his cheeks as he burrowed his face into his backpack to muffle his sobs.

There were no gentle arms to hold him, no reassuring words to chase away the nightmares. He was truly alone.

_Chase the rainbows in my mind_

_And I will try to stay alive_

_Maybe the world will know one day_

_Why won't you help me run away_

He scrounged for several weeks in the streets of the ice planet's only city. He always stayed near the spaceport, looking for another freighter to take him to another world, someplace warmer, someplace where he could disappear without being noticed.

As it was, few noticed him anyway, and he was very careful about staying out of sight. His skills developed quickly, and he noted he was as lucky being under privileged when it came to scrounging as he'd been in his house.

He obtained a pair of boots and new clothing, even a few items he traded for credits for food, as his ration bars had run out in his first week.

He was sever, agile and lanky, tall for a child his age. His mind worked out scenarios for what he would tell the authorities if he was ever caught. Perhaps he was an orphan, struggling to make a living on what little skills he had. Perhaps he was the son of a hard off family, bringing those credits he earned back to his sick mother to pay for her medicine.

That lie had earned him more credits for his trophies.

He learned quickly, adapting to life on the streets and was forced to grow up in a very short period of time.

It was one of these times, the law almost having tracked his hiding place, that he stowed away on a freighter that landed bringing more supplies to the colony.

He stowed away in the cargo hold again, sitting close to the hatch leading to the crew cabins, making himself at home and helping himself to their supplies as they took them on, careful not to be seen nor heard.

This journey was longer, and he didn't know how long he was in hyperspace for. He just knew that this freighter had kept their hold full of air and was grateful for it.

The next planet he landed on he actually heard the name of.

Ennth.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

_I could sing for change_

_On a Paris street_

_Be a red light dancer_

_In New Orleans_

_I could start again_

_Choose a family_

_I could change my name_

_Come and go as I please_

He stepped off the ship in the dead of night, disappearing into the streets of the new planet like a ghost. He quickly scrounged a cloak, pulling it on so he could blend in with the natives, and ditched his heavy winter gear.

The weather on this planet was sweltering.

His backpack, now torn in several places, was still with him faithfully. His sleeping bag had been traded on the last planet to earn him credits, and on this one his blanket would do him no problem.

He considered his options as he scampered through the streets. He was essentially an orphan, having no name that he'd spoken or wanted to claim. He had an opportunity here to find a family that was nicer than his own had been, one that had the love and support to nurture his unique talents.

His decision made, he quickly headed away from the spaceport.

_In the dead of night_

_You'll wonder where I've gone_

_Wasn't it you that made me run away_

He found the family he wanted shortly, within a week of being on planet. They had one boy, similar in looks to himself, with black hair and green eyes that would allow him to be passed off as their son no problem.

He took his time, getting to know the boy, Zekk, until finally; he was invited home one evening to meet the boy's parents.

Things evolved quickly from there. They lived in a modest cottage, and had always yearned for a sibling for Zekk. They asked to meet his parents and when he informed them that they were dead, had invited him to live with them.

He still had nightmares, but his new mother was always there to shush them, gently stroking his long hair from his brow. She kissed him softly, having accepted him as completely as if he was her child. His throat closed, and he curled into her warmth, inhaling her sweet scent and allowing it to lul him back to sleep.

It was in these moments he wondered if his real parents ever thought about him, ever wondered what had happened to him. And it was in these moments he decided it didn't matter.

They'd driven him away and they deserved to be in pain. He'd found a new life, a new family, and hope.

He'd found what he'd been looking for.

_This life makes no sense to me_

_It don't make no sense to me_

_Life don't make any sense to me_

The tragedy he hadn't anticipated arrived swiftly and suddenly.

He'd been with the family for the better part of several months, nearing his eight birthday, and had been out playing with his brother's friends. He'd been teasing one of the girls for being too bossy, using his agility to keep out of her reach.

It had been fun; she'd been a bully and deserved it.

He'd come running home once she'd burst into tears to tell Zekk about it and found his house covered in mud. He'd jumped into the still moving pile and begun flinging it everywhere, calling out for his mother and father; calling out for his brother.

It took a quick thinking neighbor to pull him from certain death, tears streaming down his cheeks as he fought to get back into the mass that was flowing swiftly through the streets. Half of his block was gone, and several blocks behind it had been engulfed as well.

Emergency crews were called in to clear away the mud.

He stared at the mound in disbelief, silent tears of shock running down his face. He'd left his family sleeping to come out early and play.

I should be there! His brain shouted the words at him. It wasn't fair! He'd finally found everything he'd been looking for only to have it torn from him by a freak of nature. He screamed, twisting and turning, demanding that the woman who held him let him go; that she let him die with his family.

Emergency crew workers were drawn to his commotion, and he was so distraught, he didn't see their looks of compassion. A drug was administered to knock him out and he remembered nothing after that.

_I was just trying to be myself_

_Have it your way I'll meet you in hell_

_It's all these secrets that I shouldn't tell _

_I've got to run away_

He couldn't stay on Ennth any longer. They wanted to put him in an orphanage, to put him with other children that had lost their parents; they didn't understand him.

They didn't understand that he'd just lost his second set of parents in the same year.

He ran from them, hiding with all his skills near the space port and looking for a ship they wouldn't dream of searching. He hid for weeks on end, almost two months, before he found what he was looking for.

An old, battered freighter that looked as if it were going to fall apart, landed in a nearby docking bay.

An freighter stepped down the ramp to speak with the customs, and he could overhear them talking about relief supplies and aid, and dashed aboard while they were busy.

He hid himself inside the body of the ship this time, stowing away inside the compartment that was concealed under the bunk. His bag had been in the house, so he had little more than the clothes on his back. He took the liberty of obtaining a towel from the spacer's 'fresher unit and folded it into a makeshift pillow before curling up and going to sleep.

No one would find him here.

_It's hypocritical of you_

_Do as you say not as you do_

_I'll never be your perfect boy_

_I've got to run away_

A hand on his shoulder made him jerk several hours later and he was roughly pulled from the compartment under the bed. "What in blazes are you doing stowing away on my-" the tirade stopped. "You're just a kid."

He swallowed hard as he was put on his feet, feeling the slight vibration that indicated they were in hyperspace. He nodded, looking down at his scuffed boots and threadbare clothing. He could feel the space taking in his appearance. The towel was pulled from the cubby hole and extended to him.

He looked up, meeting the spacer's sympathetic gaze, and saw tolerance and acceptance. Something he hadn't expected. He gingerly reached out to accept the towel.

"We'll get you cleaned up and then put you to work. We're too far from Ennth to turn back now, but you look like you're a smart one." The space eyed him critically and then smiled, seeming to come to a decision about him. "You have a name, son?"

The spacer's kindly smile was enough, and in that moment he made his own decision. The boy he knew had been buried in a mud slide and wouldn't need his name any longer. Speaking in a rusty, almost quavering voice, he made the decision that would set him on an unexpected path and once again change his life forever.

"My name is Zekk."

Fin.


End file.
